System Crash
by Ragnarok Emissary
Summary: Rein is an avid card tactician that is plagued by the memory of one of his biggest failures, as such he has no confidence. When made into a tamer, his self confidence will be pushed to the very limit. R&R T rated because I'm a teen and I'm reading this XD
1. Let it Begin

**I thought up this story when I started to remember the digimon tv shows, and thought back to my favorite of them all: season three. This takes place a year after the final events of season three (I know, a year time difference is very cliched). Please read and feel free to tell me what I need to work on to make this story an even better one. Reviews are coveted and sought after as well (hint hint). Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Hmm . . . to tell the truth or not to tell the truth? Honesty is the best policy I guess . . . in truth, I own neither Digimon nor its respective voice actors and sound effects.**

_italics = thought_

**Let it begin . . .**

It's a funny feeling knowing that your in a room full of people, yet you can't even tell they're there. The only person I _could_ see was the girl that sat across from me, my opponent. We were sitting face to face at either end of a table, cards expertly laid out across its surface. She was wearing a white shirt with ice blue sleeves and the cartoonish figure of a broken heart at its chest, it was blue as well, her red hair was pulled back into a short and spiky ponytail. She stared at me without even a hint of emotion in her violet eyes, the perfect poker face. It was my turn, I realized, and I flipped over the cards for my final run; do or die time. _Chibimon digivolves to Garrowmon! _The cute little digimon's card replaced with a fierce new one, _Digimodify, hyper speed and plasma blade, _the lifeless cards painted a vivid portrait in my imagination of the ninja-type digimon charging in speedily with the blue lazer sword raised. She flipped out a card of her own in response, horror filled my mind as I saw its picture. System Crash. In my mind's eye I saw my charging warrior's blade shatter and his speed decrease like none other. _No! Keep going, we can win this! Just a little more! _In less than ten seconds my mind's portrait was blurred and smeared with the erupting pixels that had once been my key to victory. _Game Over _. . .

I woke with a start, a wave of adrenaline and frustration shuddering up my spine. The last night of summer break and I was still having nightmares of _that_! I looked over to my alarm clock, it must have been early because it was still dark. 5:27 almost three hours before school, what a ridiculous time to wake up! I bunched up the covers and tried to get myself to fall asleep, though I knew that I never would; once awake I can't sleep. The stars and the moon gave my room just enough light for me to make out my few possessions namely my school bag, my little netbook laptop, and above all my cardboard box of Digimon cards, anything else was just the random junk that a fourteen-year-old would hoard.

Usually my dreams would wake me just before eight, giving me the necessary time to cram and get ready for school, but this wasn't one of the those times. The worst of it was that I had no homework, or distraction, to consume my time since today was the first day of school for 8th grade; lucky me. I rolled over and repositioned myself yet again, looking at the glowing red letters of my clock once more. 5:29, no friggin way was I going to do this until eight! I reached out for my Netbook, finding it just out of my grasp. I hung my upper body over the bed as I reached further, fumbling in the dark for my computer. I finally found purchase on one of its edges and dragged it across the floor toward me, then lifted it up onto my bed. I stayed on my side as I started to browse the internet, looking up anything from my school's policies to the newest releases of cards.

By the time I looked up from my web surfing the clock showed 7:44, now I could go about doing what I was supposed to be doing. I got up from my bead, setting the laptop off to its side, and flipped the covers back on in a feeble attempt to make my bed. I got dressed and went out of my room for breakfast, which consisted of me frying and egg and heaping it on a piece of toast to make an opened faced sandwich. I ate at the dining room table in silence, munching happily at my breakfast, not even bothering to use a plate. My chewing slowed for a minute, something was missing . . . I snapped my fingers at the realization that I had forgotten mustard. After squirting a couple shots of the yellow paste onto my sandwich I continued to chew. I'd be walking today, like every other day, because my parents worked early in the mornings and got off around five. I picked up my backpack and checking for anything missing . . . nope, before gently placing my box of cards in the top of the jumbled mess inside. I walked out, grabbing the keys off the peg next to the front door as I did so. The day had begun . . .

My name is Rein Kashi, I'm five foot five, male, have shortish brown hair, brown eyes, and extremely pale skin. I don't tan easily, and can never be too hot or too cold. I haven't caught a cold since I was five, and have been called "healthy as a horse" at all my check ups. I am currently enrolled in jr. high as an eighth grader, and have never gotten below a 3.0 gpa. Pretty much I am the average, the cut off line, the bit of chocolate in a coffee shake. I have lived in Japan since the day I was born, and have moved with my parents to an apartment a whole district away from the school I attend. Life is good.

"Hey Rein! Goin' my way?" called a familiar voice behind me. This is Kete, I don't know his height and don't really care, his hair is blond, and his eyes are brown. He is one of my first and few friends, his favorite pastime is annoying the heck out of me. He caught up and then fell into pace with me, walking like all the cool kids do.

"Depends, you going to East J?" I asked sarcastically, he chuckled lightly. Of course he was going to East jr., I would have gagged if he had decided to go to the private academy. _Bleh_!

"Yeah, yeah, hey I'm rounding up some people to go down to the arcade, wanna come?" Kete asked nonchalantly, acting like he didn't care if I came or not. Deep down I knew he wanted me to be there; he always had something planned when he "rounded up some people", he's just that sort of guy.

"S'long as we're done by five." I replied, stating my expectations, and knowing that we'd probably be doing something till six or seven. He's just that sort of guy.

"_Sure _we'll be out and gone by five, I promise." he always made those sort of promises, the ones that he never remembers. _ School's out early today so why not? _I decided, resigned to being told off by my parents later. He's just that sort of guy.

School was always a breeze on the first day, extremely short classes, an assembly to talk about the do's and don'ts this year, and best of all no homework! The assembly had consisted of the usual if you do this, this is what will happen, except the one new difference: Digimon are not allowed. The regulation seemed stupid to me, there weren't that many Digimon in the real world anyway, but I guess the school had taken notice of the growing appearances of in-trainings in backpacks. This was a weird transition, a year ago Digimon were just part of a TV show and card franchise, but now they were live and commonly appearing beings; why just the other day I had seen an old lady being walked across the street by something that looked like a Clockmon, children in the park were playing tag with fun loving rookie levels, I'd even seen one working in a store. Definitely odd.

Kete, as it were, had only rounded up one other person for his arcade invasion. He said that people all had "plans", _no, people just don't understand you enough to want to put up with you!_ I had thought when he told me that. The other guy's name was Roland, funny how the name fit. We had now reached the arcade, my ears were flooded with noise as the doors opened. There were already a mass of yelling and screaming children there, flooding towards the games that they didn't have to think to play, a small group of teens like us were hanging out where we aimed to be: the card tables. Navigating through a sea of kids is not easy, I found out, but nevertheless we emerged at that end of the arcade triumphant.

"Hey, you guys any good?" asked a bored looking boy sitting at one of the tables, holding up his deck in challenge. Roland and Kete pushed me forward, I yelped in surprise, _They have got to be kidding! _ Reluctantly I drew my deck out of my back-pack and placed it on the end facing me, then sat down. _This is going to end badly. _I thought hopelessly as we drew our first hands.

It was over surprisingly quick, I had started with the perfect set for a strategy and employed it mercilessly. Things were going _very_ well, the closest to victory I had been in a long time. Close, but no doughnut. System Crash, those two little words had destroyed my entire chance as soon as I saw them. My imagination lucidly displayed my defeated Shinobumon being broken down into teeny tiny particles. _Why! That card haunts me everywhere I go! One little slip up at the tournament for the title, one little mistake . . . _I was on the verge of tears when I heard my challenger snicker at my traumatized expression.

"Never heard of System Crash? You gonna throw a tantrum kid?" the player laughed out, his tone patronizing. From my guess he was only a year older, what gave him the right to call me a kid! My face reddened with the insult, but paled back up as I sighed and stood to leave. I was about to bolt toward the door when Kete and Roland caught me by the arms; I struggled for a moment, but stopped when I couldn't get away. They guided me away from the table with the laughing card jock and sat me down at another table, this one was just a round table for eating.

"You're not a bad tactician, Rein, your just using the wrong Digimon." Kete started encouragingly, the way a friend was supposed to "Your strategies would work better on _anything_ but Chibimon and his evolutions."

"Then why should I be a tactician if I can't even win with one of the weakest? My aim is to prove that the weak can be strong!" I had had this talk with him for the dozenth time, he just kept trying to prove that I would work better with anything else! Chibimon was my project, if I could win with him then I could win with anything I so chose; that was my ambition!

"You have it all backwards! You start with the strong and work your way down to the weaker, not the other way around!" I was too ticked at his argument that I didn't see his reasoning, which made perfect sense. _I want to be the exception! Why can't you see that? _I sighed angrily and he softened his tone.

"Listen here, for this one time fight with someone stronger. After that I'll leave you alone to do whatever you want." Kete proposed gently, a tone of voice I had never heard before. I breathed in heavily and let it out slowly.

"I don't have any other sets with me." I stated flatly, hoping for an easy way out. I had said this once before during one of our last debates, and regretted ever saying it again when he pulled a shiny foil packed out of his pocket. I recognized it as the random card packs that were sold at retail stores. He handed it to me, I noticed that it hadn't been opened yet. I knew what he wanted, I ripped open the pack and pulled out a thin wad of cards. I started to look through them, most were modifies except for the one at the end. Renamon, I remembered the name from a newspaper talking about the heroes who had taken out D-reaper. I looked up at Kete, he pointed at one of the game sims built into the wall and crossed his arms.

I walked dejectedly to the screen and put my deck in the card reader. The machine hummed for a few seconds before the screen flickered to life, showing a cartoon version of the hand I was dealt. I clicked the card I would use and a small sprite of Renamon appeared on the screen in response. I looked at its stats, this was going to be a cakewalk! Oh how wrong I was. Nine turns later I was making my final run; do or die time. I didn't need my imagination this time, the screen depicted it perfectly. The Renamon was running down the screen towards the computer operated enemy, paws blazing with Meramons flames, traveling at speeds unheard of. The computer flipped out a card of its own in response, my heart sank as I saw the picture. System Crash, her flaming fists extinguished and her speed dropped considerably. _No! Keep going, we can still win this! _The pixel version of Renamon shattered into a million little pieces on the screen, the cartoon deck showed an animation of its cards scattering across an animated floor. I stared at the screen in anguished dismay, pausing before letting my forehead slam into the monitor. _I hate this game . . ._

I looked back to where Roland and Kete had sat, but they weren't there. Tears stung at my eyes, but I wouldn't let them out. _I guess I really am just a horrible tactician. I say that I want to make the weak strong, yet I can't even help the strong win. _My eyes had become puffy with unshed tears, I refused to cry here. System Crash, that card had followed me ever since I had lost to a girl who was labeled as "The Digimon Queen" after my defeat. I remembered the last thing she said to me: "that was easy".

The screen blurred into a blue background with a message in the center. "Try Again?" the screen asked. I reminisced back to the many times I had lost to the darn computer, every time it would whip out that same card. What was the point? Every time I tried again I failed miserably, it was proven. "That was easy", the words brought back the embarrassment of losing to her. What had she done to make it easy? I decided to put myself in a winner's shoes, if only for a second, and looked back at the screen. I clicked yes . . .

**Dun . . . dun . . . blah . . . not really that suspenseful is it?**

**So this is the start of something, the next chapter won't be up until the week after next; sorry about that. Second of all I am sorry that I put English names in Japan, but I only speak english and couldn't think of a cool Japanese name for my protagonist.**


	2. The Blue Foreshadow

**This is the second installment of my story "System Crash". I am glad to have received some input and reviews on the first chapter, they are appreciated! Sorry for the crappy update speed, but in my defense I've been away from technology for the past while.**

**Disclaimer: **

**Me: Give me Digimon!**

**Owners: NO!**

**Me: please?**

Frustration is a marvelous thing, it can give us a reason to become angry, it can prompt us to hate life as we know it, but it can also make us feel really good about ourselves. In elaboration: if you get really frustrated and ticked, how much better will you feel when you overcome it? I know I felt good after the ninth try . . .

The Game Sim screen flickered back to life after I pressed the retry button for the eighth time, making this my ninth game. I had started out with an exceptionally bad hand, and had almost been annihilated twice before the computer had decided to make its last run; do or die time. I was allowed one draw before the automated opponent sent its Digimon down the track, their pixel version of Angemon charging with his golden bowstaff raised, poised at my pixel sprite of Renamon as she was getting into a guarding position. I put down my own set of cards in response. _Power and Wargreymon's shield activate! _She laced her arms together and a great hexagonal shield embossed with the courage crest appeared and latched onto them. She stood ready, one leg braced behind the other, shield held high in anticipation to the oncoming attack. Angemon's onslaught of destructive jabs and smacks collided with the shield, energy rippling to the sides as it broke against my modify.

Even with the power card, Renamon was beginning to fail; the shield of chrome-digizoid slowly lowering with her fatigue. _It's not enough! _I decided, looking to see that my Digimon was beginning to take _damage, 45 hp . . . 38 . . . 35. _I looked to the screen's corner, noticing that the card draw button was flashing. I frantically clicked down on the blinking icon, watching as the picture of my drawn card shown in the corner with my hand, _26 hp . . . 23. _I pulled up the card on the LCD and immediately recognized the picture, _14 hp . . . 9. _I double clicked on the card and the screen showed a two second animation of it being swiped and read, _4 . . . 1! SYSTEM CRASH! _Angemon's strength and speed dropped harshly as his modifies were stripped from him and destroyed, Renamon easily dodged his next attack and retaliated with one of her own. _Power Paw! _she drew back her right fist, the shield still attached, and slammed it into Angemon's face. With the strength of the power card and the hardness of Wargreymon's shield the flaming punch collided with her enemy's iron mask like a hammer, desecrating his holy demeanor and replacing it with that of a shattered urn. His cartoon depicted form flickered like a TV screen on drugs before he broke apart completely, disintegrating into a great mist of individual pixels of blue and white. _VICTORY!_

At first I was astounded, watching the screen fade into blue with the word "WINNER" etched across it and half expecting someone to jump out screaming "fooled you!". Little animated confetti sprinkled down from the top, cascading in vibrant and glinting colors. It was about then that my mind rebooted and gained a grip on reality. I had won. For the first time in two years, I had won. At first there was a nervous and questioning tingle in my gut, then a warmth running up my spine, and finally a burst of defiant pride in my chest. I had WON! I soon learned what a happy dance was as I started to whoop and prance in circles with my arms flailing in glory, expertly demonstrating what I had never done before. Other people were beginning to look at me funny out of the corners of my vision, but I didn't care. I finally defeated my foe, and that was all that counted.

I stopped my celebration, still laughing giddily as I jammed down on the card return button. The machine rumbled for a moment before my deck popped out of the slot from whence I had laid it with an airy _Thmmp_! I jovially scooped the cards up and stuffed them in my bag, not even bothering to close the lid on my card tin inside. I practically skipped to the doors, people giving me the "okay . . . you're crazy . . ." look as I passed by. I yanked at one of the double doors and it didn't budge, giving a clinking sound instead. I pulled once more, harder this time, there was a grinding click this time. I huffed in frustration before looking the door over, realizing an embarrassing truth after a quick survey. It was a push door . . . _oops. _Once outside I looked up to realize that the sky was a billowing gray and great droplets of semi-clean rainwater were diving from the clouds above. _Oh great! _my good mood was dampened by the furious deluge. I didn't waste much time wallowing there, the rain was cold, jogging along the sidewalk and wondering where Kete had run off to.

I was particularly soaked when I found myself standing at the door to my family's apartment, which was odd because the arcade was more or less closer to home than school. Goes to show what a good downpour can do. _Mental note: do not underestimate nature! _I decided as I scuffed my feet off on the door mat, pulling the key from my waterlogged pants and sliding it into the lock. I was about to twist when the door came flying open, _thank heaven it opens inward,_ revealing the form of my worried mom. Her green eyes were wide with anxiety, but her brow soon furrowed as she gave me the look-down.

"Where have you been young man!" she asked sharply, a tone that she often used when she was either ticked or worried; I hoped that it was the latter of the two this time. She had a ladle in one hand, implying that she was practicing one of her most deadly habits: cooking. I looked in at the front room of our apartment, peering through a doorway and taking full notice of a strange goop bubbling in a pan on the stove. _Seriously mom?_

"I . . . I was down at the arcade with Kete." why was she making such a big deal about this?_ Ooooh . . . "_What time is it?" I asked sheepishly, realizing that the clouds weren't the only reason it was darker out.

"It's a quarter after six! What could you possibly be doing at an arcade for that long?" it was true, when I went on an excursion to the town's arcade I was usually back in no time; one loss at the card tables would send me trudging back home on any other day. But today was different, today I had broken my losing streak!

"I got distracted . . ." I replied, looking away as I did so. Mom didn't know about my "problem" and I intended to keep it that way, knowing that she would go into one of those obscenely long talks about letting things like that go. She sighed and then ushered me into the house, telling me to take my shoes off in the doorway; like I didn't already know that.

"Dry yourself off, and when you get back mom need's some help in the kitchen." she admitted it! She _knew _that she stunk at culinary art and yet she would do it anyway! I internally sighed at the prospect, she could at least try to understand what she does wrong. I trudged through the front room, where dad was sitting on his chair, giving him the thumbs up as I passed into the hall. The two of us had developed this form of sign language together, when I gave him that sign it really meant "I'll be back to _fix_ dinner"; he would nod in confirmation, giving me a thankful grimace, he too knew full well the capabilities of mom's poison. No, _I _was the quartermaster here!

I trudged into the dark of my room, not even caring to flick on the light. I tossed my backpack on the bed, water noticeably dripping as it landed; I instantly recalled the precious cargo inside, dread welling up inside of me. My bag was soaked, what would that do to my cards! I jumped to the bedside, my fingers fumbling quickly at the zipper, angry at my own stupidity for not putting the card's in their case, now they'd be ruined! I tipped the whole pack, letting its contents spew out, and started scrambling through the mess that had been deposited on my bed. I raked through the mess, combing out any card that could be found in the semi-darkness. Where was it? The Renamon card, the breaker of my losing streak, where was it! I desperately spread the pile out, seeking out any card that had previously eluded me and frantically looking their names over. I looked over the whole rabble of school supply again; two were missing. A misplaced speck of hardware green stood out to me, relief flooding my senses, it was the color of a Digimon card. I pinched the corner and tenderly slid the priceless piece of paper from its hiding place, nestled between the pages of my textbook, and looked at its face. _Chibimon . . . _I was disappointed beyond belief, realizing that my own reaction disappointed me as well; I had abandoned my project for the strongest rookie there could be? And so easily? No, this wasn't right, where was my ambition, how was I proving that the weak could be strong by choosing the already strong? I wasn't proving anything!

I gently laid the cards on the flat surface of my desk in the corner; some were drenched beyond repair, others just moistened around the edges, and then there were the few that had taken refuge in the few places that the rain hadn't reached. I counted, finding an error, and recounted. I had never found Renamon's card, yet there was definitely an even seventy two whereas there should have been seventy one. I looked over each card, trying to find the one that didn't belong, and my eyes rested on a card that was not a card. I picked up the odd paper and held it up to my eyes, squinting in the dark, it was the exact same shape as a playing card but shined with a sapphire sheen in the dull shading of my room. _What in the world . . ._

"You changed yet!" my mom called from outside my closed door, making me jump as all the tension in the air was obliterated. I clumsily put the card down and flew into a furious dash to get dry clothes on.

"Uh-yeah, I-I'm almost done." I stuttered back, my mind racing a thousand miles a minute on a ten speed bike. After redressing in record time I walked briskly out of my room, the card put aside but by no means forgotten. Upon entering the kitchen I noticed two things, one was that the iffy black goo had darkened (if possible) further, and secondly that my mom was slicing up what looked like a stick of cinnamon with a butter knife.

"Mom . . . what recipe is this?" I asked bluntly and rudely, knowing the answer from many years of experience.

"We didn't have all the ingredients, so I improvised . . ."

**It is official, this is filler for the next chapter! It's the appearance of the mighty blue card, foreshadow foreshadow foreshadow. I promise that the next chapter will be a bit more exciting. Please review with any ideas for the story, because I have not worked out the full plot and as such have updated rather slowly, or just review with feedback as to whether the story is worth finishing. **


	3. Window

**Hi it's me again, I have a confession to make: I found out that the name Chibimon is really Demi-Veemon, whose evolved forms are by no means weak. I would like to clarify that the Chibimon from this story is not Demi-Veemon, it is an OC Digimon that is relatively weak. Sorry if that caused any confusion. **

_Italics = thought _

**Disclaimer: I _would _own Digimon if I _could, _but I _can't _so I _don't._**

We ate late that night, dinner consisting of fried rice and curry sauce. It had been utterly impossible to salvage the pan of brown sludge that mother so lovingly prepared, so we (I) decided to start all over. It was silent now, the dining room's glow extinguished, the whispering hum of machinery was all that could be heard; the fridge's baritone voice coupled with the constant thrum of the water cooler and given a rhythm by the hypnotic whoosh of the dishwasher. The evening was over, the night was just beginning.

I don't know how long I laid in my room, staring at the neon red bars of my alarm clock; which was uncanny considering that it was built to tell time. There wasn't much to think about, but at the same time there was a lot to think about. School wasn't the labor on my mind tonight, that would come once homework started pouring in, no, it was that strange rectangle of blue plastic with a bar of gray running down its side that bothered me. With each glance to the desk it stood out more and more from the cards around it; daring me to study it, to finger it, to gaze into its azure luster. I'm not very much of a taunt taker, but tonight I decided that I would make an exception.

A quick trip to my desk and the card was in my hands, shining out to me in the moonlight streaming through my window. It was thicker than a playing card, about twice as thick, but not any heavier, as if it were just a trick of the light. I got back to the bed, diving for the Net Book laying to its side, my mind racing. With a flip and a two second wait the screen blinked to life, bathing my unlit room in a light almost too bright. Squinting, I clicked for my internet browser, my eyes slowly adjusting to the excess light, as soon as it popped up I dragged the mouse to the search toolbar and clicked.

"Blue . . . card . . ." I muttered over the clickety clack of the keyboard. With a quick jab to the enter key, the window flashed white before displaying an impressively long list of sites about and/or pertaining to the rules of soccer. _Darn you Google! _I cursed, typing "-soccer" as an extension to my current search. This time the list contained a cornucopia of sites that all had one word in common: european union. I started to tap the card on my computer's side in frustration, deciding that answers wouldn't come. One such tap, the smallest of motions, landed my query on the padded lining of my disk drive. I flicked the card back to tap again only to find that it wouldn't budge from its current position, one corner lodged in the slot of my CD-ROM, I jerked my hand back with a bit more force, but it didn't even give a hint of movement. A low whirring hum filled my ears, the sound of a disk drive auto inserting , and the cursed piece of plastic began to slide effortlessly into the slot. I was yanking hard by then, grunting as one hand held my laptop away while the other attempted pull the card towards me; I was rewarded by a sharp pinch when the final corner slipped in, my fingers jamming into the lining. I was about to bolt from my room in search of a pair of needle-nose pliers, but something stopped me when it caught my eye. A bright bluish line had run straight down the screen of my laptop, and was slowly widening. It was more of a bar by the time I saw what was happening, but soon overtook the four corners of my screen, bathing my room in a harsh blue light. I could very well have said that the gates of hell had opened, or, more accurately, its windows . . .

(view-point change)

"Is it him?" a high-pitched yet raspy voice echoed out in the great chasm, its owner a green Goblimon. Shadows that couldn't be counted echoed off the walls of the abyss. The only light was that of a bright panel of blue, the figure beyond was that of their query. The air flickered and was quickly replaced with the hulking figure of another seeker, and more soon after.

"It's him . . ." a deep and rumbling voice replied. Many had heard of this one and had patiently awaited his election into being a tamer, many had accumulated, but only one would walk out of this chasm; out of this world.

"I heard that he almost defeated the strongest tamer alive with the weakest of Digimon."

"I heard he let her win!"

"With that kind of catalyst, even I . . ."

"Hey kid! Tame me!" they were beginning to creep from the shadows, reaching their hands into the window.

"NO! Me!"

Not much could be seen besides the boy, but it looked like he was trying to hide.

"Tamer . . ."

"Make me stronger."

"I just want to win . . ."

"Tame us!"

He was shaking like he was about to be eaten, in this case he might be.

"Be _my_ tamer!"

"It would be worth your while . . ."

"Please!"

The look of horror on his face was like the many others that had been terrified by the seekers.

"Pick me!"

"We could win together . . ."

"SHUT UP!" the screaming roar resonated throughout the chasm, leaving a dead silence "I can't tame all of you!" again there was silence, the trembling human child regained a tiny bit of his composure "None of you are weak enough to need my help . . ."

Nobody moved for the longest time; some looked hurt at his words, others disappointed, some even angry, but one looked almost puzzled . . .

"What are you talking about? Everyone wants the strongest Digimon!" a dark yet clear voice rang out in the blackness, arms longer than normal spread wide in a questioning stance. The plain looking boy flinched, his breath shuddering as he thought of an answer. His eyes, which had remained closed for the longest time, flew open, a new light burning in them.

"The strongest aren't obtained . . ." he took a deep breath and steadied himself "They're achieved!"

Those words hung heavy in the dank air, echoing in the minds and hearts of all present. The dark one who had asked frowned, his glowing red eyes narrowed into slits, this wasn't the way it was supposed to work; Digimon would train and get stronger so that they _would_ get picked _because _they were strong, this kid had it completely backwards! He withdrew from the shadows and into the light, his full form visible, tattered wings casting wicked shadows, bandaged arms that extended far beyond normal proportions held ready. Devimon . . .

(view reset)

I had the feeling that I'd said something wrong, that I'd upset someone, that I'd just signed my death warrant. Even cowering five feet from my computer screen the images beyond were terrifying, the one thing that I could fully see was the one thing I didn't want to. Remembering from all those TV shows and even a few games of cards, the time with the jock at the arcade included, I knew who this was and what he could do. The Devimon on the other side brought his hand up, claws at the ready in their crimson sheen. _How is this even possible!_

"I've waited too long for this day, I am not walking away empty handed!" Devimon yelled in apparent rage, the bluish skin not covered by his mask contorting into a black scowl. To my surprise and evident horror the screen's surface began to bubble and ripple as an alien object began to push its way out from the pixel board! _Holy crap!_ I internally screamed, not trusting my voice enough to say it out loud as black, bony fingers slipped out of the flat of my LCD, which was jiggling and roiling about like disturbed jello at this point. Soon there was more than just fingers, the hand to which they belonged followed after, and then the long, thin arm further aiding the trek out my laptop. It reached for me, fingers spread like the claw games at malls, following whatever move I took to avoid it! Frantically dodging left and right, I prayed that the hand wouldn't reach me, but it was getting closer to snagging me each time.

_Why not just leave the room? _my logic screamed. After another narrow escape I turned to run from my room, but tripped on some unseen force; sprawling on the carpet before the door. I scrambled to get up, to leave this scene, but found myself reintroduced to the floor. Looking back I figured out what the problem was, the hand had caught hold of my ankle and was now pulling back to the portal within the screen. I yanked and jerked, the laws of physics said that the computer was supposed to drag with my pulling, but the Net Book stayed in the same spot that I had flung it when the light had first appeared; the arm pulling me towards the screen rather than the screen towards me. At this point I didn't care whether or not my parents needed to sleep; yelling and wailing for them to come and help, but they didn't appear. I glanced back to the screen, Devimon's face grinning maniacally as he pulled me closer and closer to the glowing portal.

"I don't care who it is, I'll take anyone but this guy!" I screamed in desperation, not knowing the consequences, Devimon's glare intensified. Not a move was made from the other silhouettes, they all just sat there watching. "Please . . . anyone . . ." I whimpered, fully convinced that this was the end and no one would even lift a finger.

". . . Anyone?" a deep yet feminine voice asked through the dark. Devimon's gaze shifted from me to some unknown object on the other side, his face portraying a loathsome grimace.

"Y-you!" he cried out angrily, releasing his hold on my leg to get into a fighting stance on his side of the screen

"Me." the new voice answered mockingly. A normal idiot would have run right there right then, but I had to see!

"You can't have this one! This tamer is _mine_!" Devimon bellowed, his red claws glowing an unnatural ruby shade.

"Like all the others?" She, I guessed it was a she, taunted.

"Grrrr! I'll make you eat those words! Crimson Claw!" He slashed his clawed hands through the air, ten glowing crescents of jagged red light streaked out towards their target; a target that I couldn't see, unfortunately. He was rewarded with a dry chuckle and seconds later a great volley of shining ice shards flurried back in reply, which he blocked by cocooning himself in his wings; tarnishing them further.

"Feisty one aren't you?" A shadow streaked across the "window" before another deluge of ice rained down upon Devimon; he growled out in frustration, throwing glances about wildly in an attempt to pinpoint his foe. Another blast of ice caught him off guard, pommeling him into the ground, and he roared demonically.

"Argh! Come out and fight like a mon you coward! Or maybe your too scared to do even tha-"

"Crystal Claw!" the unknown assailant delivered a sharp swipe to Devimon's face. _Easily provoked . . . _I noted on how fast the response had been. With a flicker the silhouette in the window vanished again before I could place a name. It was humanoid, that was for sure, beast man type probably, but that didn't narrow it down much. Devimon brought a hand up to his face, examining the damage that had been inflicted, when another blow materialized to his side, slamming him onto his back. I had a second longer to see my defender this time, it had a bushy tail and three strange projections spiking out from each shoulder. _. . . No . . . it can't be . . . _It delivered another sharp kick to Devimon's unprotected stomach, shining black claws showing on its three toed foot, forcing him out of my view from the window, and started to saunter toward the portal; image becoming clearer with each step. Purple forearm gloves, embossed with yin and yang on the backs, a slight mane puffing out below the neck, covering her chest, a pointed face and hard blue eyes with jagged purple lines running parallel to them, straight ears jutting out like spikes on her head; all of these things, and more, confirmed my suspicions. _Renamon_ . . .

"And with that," her form became shaded as it grew closer to the light, but those sapphire eyes remained aglow "I choose my tamer." Everything, not just the window on the screen, began to ripple and twist, swirling and exploding into brilliant shades of black . . .

(pause for effect)

I awoke in a daze, feeling like someone had kicked me to sleep and now had kicked me awake. I was on my bed, that was evident, everything was in the place it should be; backpack slung on the corner of my bed, Net book placed to the side, junk strategically positioned in corners where it wouldn't be easily seen from the doorway. Yup, everything where it was supposed to be; including me._ Just a dream!_ I groggily rubbed the sleep from my eyes before glancing at the alarm clock. 7:19 just early enough to be inconvenient, but not early enough to try and squeeze in that last ounce of sleep._ But it was so real . . . _I stifled a yawn as I pushed myself out of bed, landing haphazardly on my heels and swaying slightly with the change in altitude. I decided that now would be as good a time as any to start the morning routine, I had nothing to do anyway.

_Too freaky to be a dream, too real to be a nightmare,_ I mused as I switched from my PJ's and into some loose fitting jeans and a black T-shirt with a picture of some suspicious eyes and the words "Ninjas, they're everywhere!" scrawled on it. Nightmares usually were not by any means realistic, but dreams were usually mellow and without point. _But if it was a dream, what was that card about?_ I asked myself, not really expecting an answer, but found myself walking over to the desk anyway. Looking over the arrays of newly dried cards I found myself counting them again, looking for the abnormality . . . nope, an even seventy two.

_Wait, there should be seventy one! _my frayed logic told me and I looked over the assortment again, my eyes finally resting upon a card that was not a card. I picked it up ever-so-gently and slipped it into my right pocket, its plastic blue surface sliding effortlessly across the fabric. I figured that I'd take it with me to school today, rationalizing that maybe someone would know what it was. Pulling my backpack from its place on the corner of my bed, I walked out from my room and into the kitchen. After the uniform breakfast of toast and egg, smothered in mustard, I pulled the apartment keys from their peg next to the door, shouldered my backpack, and stepped outside.I got about a hundred steps from the apartment building when I heard a familiar voice hailing me.

"Hey Rein, going my way?" the signature beginning of just about every school day had appeared. I waited, listening as Kete's swift footsteps steadily grew louder, and started to walk again when he fell into step beside me.

"Depends . . ." I answered with a monotone voice, hinting at how well I'd slept the night before. I didn't finish my sentence, my mind wandering too far to return to the current conversation. Kete detected the fatigued tone in my voice and gave the look down.

"Gee, you look like you just got hit by a subway train. What happened?" He asked, half-smiling, looking like he expected some absolutely insane story about how I was kidnapped by the U.S. government and forced to stay awake for a whole night.

"Just a bad night to sleep, I guess." I replied; it wasn't the whole story, but I didn't feel like pouring out my soul to my best friend (who does _that_ anymore?). My thoughts returned to the blue card in my pocket, what would Kete know about this?

"Dang . . . well, don't let it hold you down. I find that when I'm tired junk food is the best to keep me awake, or some good ole coff-"

"Have you ever heard of a blue card?" I cut him off; not really paying attention to what he was saying anyway. Something about coffee . . .

"Brand of coffee? Can't say that I have-" I whipped out the alien piece of plastic, flipping it in front of Kete's face.

"No, these kind of blue cards!" I broke his rambling off again, annoyed. He blinked twice before giving me a blank, yet questioning, stare.

"You sure your alright, Rein? You look pale . . ." This time he really _did _sound worried, and that scared me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Kete plucked the card from my fingers and held it up to my face, its blue shine just as bright as ever. He proceeded to stare intensely, as if he were looking for a lie in my eyes.

"This . . . this is the Renamon card I gave you yesterday." Kete stated with a completely straight face, giving me the feeling that this wasn't a joke. I looked at its blue surface, searching it for something Kete could see that I could not._ No it's not! _We had stopped walking at this point, standing at the mouth of an alley, a little less than half a mile from school.

"It's blue." I denied, but my resolve was already beginning to waver.

"I believe you, but it looks like a Renamon card to me." I was now thoroughly convinced that either Kete _thought _I was insane, or I really _was_ . . .

" . . . H-yeah, fooled you didn't I . . . haha . . ." I resorted to the old deny-all-of-it-by-claiming-it-was-a-joke standby that worked so well to end an awkward conversation. For the first time Kete gave me a look that easily expressed the ten words: "I don't think your okay, but if you say so", before starting up his trot once more. The rest of the trip to school was traversed in an awkward silence, but what was there to say when one of us was at a loss and the other at a mental impasse? _What if I really am going crazy . . ._

**Well this chapter did take longer than I wanted it to, but it also was longer than I usually write; that has to count for something. Once again I'm sorry for the slowness of my updates, I don't usually have this much trouble when writing. I would also like to thank Keyon Trials for writing his story, which in turn got me motivated to write mine. And finally, please review; it makes me feel all warm inside like I swallowed a kitten XD.**


	4. Finally!

**Mmm, sooooooo tired . . . Fourth installment . . . lets see . . . if we can get . . . some action . . .**

_Italics = thought_

**Disclaimer: Meh . . . too tired to fight it . . . don't own nothing . . .**

It's feels weird being watched by nothing. To look over my shoulder and never find anything out of the ordinary, but maybe the ordinary was what scared me; how could life go on like usual, like nothing had happened? Thinking about it rationally, to everyone else, nothing had happened to change their average day. No one else felt the confusion bouncing about in my head, no one else had experienced last night, no one else was seeing a blue card when I asked them, just me, _that _was what made me uneasy.

"Hey man, Jakes was wondering if you wanted to play a round with him after school." a slightly familiar blond boy asked, jostling me from my doze on the desk. W_hy do I feel like I know you? _I asked myself as I looked up, staring blankly until something in my sleep deprived mind clicked. _Oh yeah, your Kete . . . hah . . . _my friend had completely blown off the awkward conversation from this morning and was back to his usual annoying self, if anything he seemed _more_ energetic.

" . . . Oh . . . sure . . ." it took me a second to register what he had asked and a few more moments to reply, Kete looked at me skeptically. It was the final class of the day, most of them had revolved around the rules and things we will be learning about in the coming year; no homework to be seen . . . praise the lord. I sluggishly started to drag things off my desk and into the pack. No sooner than I was done, four electric chimes rang out through the intercom; school was officially over for today. I shouldered my backpack and slowly vacated the area of my desk, trudging to the usual spot where Jakes could be found; some picnic tables next to a fountain in front of the business a few blocks down. It was unusually cold out today I decided, taking in a deep breath of frigid air, remembering that I had stashed a jacket in my pack yesterday just in case it decided to rain again. After putting it on I felt a little warmer, but the chill was still there. I arrived at my destination to be greeted by a black haired boy, game face on and deck in hand, this is Jakes. He and I have known each other since first grade, hated each other since third grade, and have devolved to just being rivals since sixth.

"Ready to lose Ponyboy?" Jakes asked jokingly. _Again with the Ponyboy, I don't even know why you call me that! _I internally yelled; he had given me that nickname a couple years back, but I still didn't understand it. I sat across from him, the table's green paint contrasting heavily with the two decks laid upon it.

"I've only got time for one game." I warned, _don't want to get sucked in like yesterday and be late. _

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you can only bear to lose to me _once_ a day. Hehe!" I didn't like his tone "Anyway, lets count our decks. hand over yours." I grudgingly held out my cards to him, he did the same. We both counted the other's cards; I counted an even seventy two in his deck. "There's not enough here, man." Jakes said gesturing to my deck.

"Pardon?"

"I said that you only got seventy one in your deck. Y'can either fork over another card, or beat it Ponyboy." now I understood, I hadn't added another card to replace the blue one I had taken out. I pulled the blue card out from my pocket and handed it to him, figuring that he would see it as a Renamon card like everyone else, and bundled myself a little tighter in my jacket. _ Is it supposed to be this COLD? _I was right, he looked at it for a second, mouthed the words and stuck it on the pile. We began, pulling our first hands from the piles, when he seemed to remember something and set something down on the table between us. I had seen these before: card readers, an invention designed for kids who can't do the math themselves.

"My cousin gave it to me; said it was old, but still works." Jakes explained, scratching the back of his head. We laid out our cards for the next four turns, neither side making a pass at the other, when Jakes shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sure is _hot_ out today . . ." he groaned while fanning himself with his cards.

"What are you talking about, I'm freezing." I shivered involuntarily, adding effect, Jakes gave me a skeptical look.

"Dude, it's like ninety degrees out."

(Skip)

The sun had taken a liking to setting early, I decided as I walked down the city streets. Looking at the clocks in the local shops I gleaned that it was four thirty, barely enough time to get home before my parents and escape rebuke. As charming the scenery was, my gaze was riveted to the "demon box" in my left hand. By definition it was just a card scanner, but it was a demon box to me. Its pixel board was breaking out into constantly changing numbers, letters, and symbols; every once in a while it would emit a high pitched beeping noise, or spray out a shower of blue sparks. So by descriptionit _was_ a demon box, and as such it held my undivided attention; not even the steadily increasing chill could distract me! All Jakes had done was swipe that cursed blue card through his scanner and then poof, it turned into a demon box.

I don't know why I asked if I could have it (what would I do with such a thing?), but after offering to buy him a new one Jakes complied grumbling about how his cousin kept giving him cheap junk. And now I held the useless device in my hands, watching in mesmerized wonder as the screen flicked through every symbol embedded in its programming over and over and over again. _ What am I supposed to do with this? It's just a piece of broken hardware, why should I want it? Crap, now I have to get Jakes another one! Smooth move ex-lax! _I internally kicked myself; sure I had money, but I was saving it for something nice. What did those cost these days, about five hundred yen? _Not too bad_, I conceded; not _that_ much money out of my savings, but I'd better not make it a habit. I looked through a store's window, found its clock and cringed; five forty three, and I wasn't even three fourths of the way home! Pocketing the demon box, I took off running in the direction of my apartment, not noticing that my breath was now erupting out in puffs of white fog; just like it would in the winter's chill . . .

(Switch)

-D.T.C. (Digital Traffic Center)

"Riley, status report?" a thin, blond man wearing an all black business suit asked; sunglasses glinting off the bright projections on the screens above. The great dome ceiling of LCD screens had surprisingly remained the same throughout Hypnos' transfiguration into a more digitally friendly enterprise. The D.T.C., as it was now called, was more of an immigration monitor than anything now, whereas it would have immediately terminated a bio-emergence upon detection a year ago. A friendly "heads up, a Digimon's coming" rather than an "Ah! Digimon! kill it!"; quite the change wouldn't you say?

"Seventeen emergences are imminent sir!" the red haired woman wearing a digital visor replied urgently from atop her elevated seat. Seventeen! More and more seemed to be jumping out each month! In the beginning it was just the odd emergence or so every week, now it seemed as though they were coming out of the woodwork! Behind those black tint shades, Yamaki's eyes closed as he sighed in exhaustion. He was always tired these days, twelve hour shifts would do that to a man; coffee once could take the edge off, but now it just added to his fatigue. He slowly opened his eyes, though his sunglasses made it seem as though he never had closed them.

"Risk factor?" Yamaki asked the woman, Riley, using the least amount of words possible to conserve his energy. Most Digimon that came these days were harmless . . . more or less; they were subject to an explicit set of rules that the D.T.C. would display upon their transfer, but there were often those that found themselves above the rules . . .

"Fifteen have agreed to the terms and have identified themselves," Riley reported.

"The other two?"

" . . . No noticeable response to our warnings."

Yamaki sighed, this was turning out to be a lousy day . . .

(Switch)

_Something's wrong, _I concluded, _this is WAY to cold for early fall! _The chill was not just a figment of my imagination anymore, it had started to spread out around me, someone's coffee frosted over when I passed, and now people around me were starting to shiver too. I cupped my numb hands together and blew in them, hoping to gets some warmth, but they didn't heat up.

_Weird . . ._

It was in my pondering that the pedestrians beside me shuffled away with new vigor, leaving me there with my thoughts. A metallic rattling caught my ear, I found its source pretty quickly, a manhole cover up the sidewalk a ways. That's when things became hectic. The metal disk of the cover blew off of its hole and a heavy gray mist sprayed up from below, covering the area with a thick fog. The cold grew colder, and out of that hole climbed a lumpy yet humanoid shape. Disproportional forearms and a tangled mane of some sort of hair slicking down its back, the mist began to clear and I could make out a color, ice blue. _Ice, that's it! _I began running through a list of ice attribute Digimon in my head, and snapped my fingers when one of the names matched. The silhouette of Hyogamon turned to face me, having heard the snap of my fingers, and charged with no hesitation.

_I'm in trouble,_ I thought flatly as he barreled toward me with his icicle-club raised high. I barely sidestepped his downward strike, but wasn't able to dodge his unarmed fist. I hit the ground. Hard. Landing on my side and groaning in pain, I felt the demon box crack with the force of landing on it. What a wicked way to fight, punching people into the air, if the blow doesn't kill you the landing will! I looked up to see Hyogamon starting toward me again, club to the side for a sweeping motion; _that_ would be hard to dodge. I slowly got up, dusting myself off and checking for injuries, then pulled out the demon box to survey the damage. I had expected it to be broken in half or something like that, but what I pulled out wasn't anything like that. Where there should have been a square there was a very roly-poly T shape, a circular band of purple wreathing a square LCD inside of it, two egg-shaped buttons on either side of a target design at the bottom of the T, this was anything _but_ that old card reader Jakes gave me!

_Wham!_ I landed flat on my back this time, having forgotten the charging monstrosity, loud pops could be heard. Surprisingly I didn't feel it thanks to the cold, but I probably would be sore tomorrow; that is, if I'd live that long. Hyogamon's gaping mouth was twisted into a grin, displaying a fine array of rotting teeth. He lifted his icicle again, and brought it hurtling down. I rolled, the attack missing me by centimeters and leaving a crack in the cement of the sidewalk. I laid there for two seconds, planning my escape, before making a quick move to immobilize him. I kicked him in the balls. Hard and without mercy before rolling, getting up, running, and almost snickering at the howl of agony that my actions had elicited.

(Switch)

"Sir, the first wild one has emerged!" Riley reported, pulling the query's current position up on the main monitor.

"Yugoth didn't even slow it down." Yamaki stated rhetorically. Yugoth rarely slowed them down anymore, they must have found loopholes around it.

"Sir the satellite has picked up other life forms in the area." She continued. They had access to this nifty satellite because of the government's support, those useless people _could_ do something useful every once in a while.

"Big surprise," Yamaki noted dryly "any staying in the immediate zone?" This was followed my more clicking of a keyboard, another window opened up on the screen. It showed an overview picture of the zone with green dots symbolizing civilians, a red dot meaning the wild one, blue dots symbolized any help in the area, but there were none of those. One green dot had stayed for about thirty seconds before moving away from the wild one and up the street. This was almost interesting . . .

"Should we send a team? Sir?" Riley asked, waiting for a reply.

" . . . Yes. Also, trace the one that stuck around." _In case we need information_, Yamaki never added that last part; feeling no need to explain what his head analyst already knew.

(Switch)

The cold had subsided, leaving me winded a block from of my apartments and holding my side in pain from the previous scuffle. I couldn't hear Hyogamon behind me so I slowed my pace to catch my breath. I looked up to the apartment complex, now half a block away, in time to see a door open on the third floor; it was my door. _Aw man! _I thought as I saw my mom poke her head out; she got crazy like this when I didn't come home on time. Like a gun turret, her head swiveled to look at me as I walked along the sidewalk; now only a fourth of a block away. I could see the look on her face: irritation, probably at my tardiness, she has A-type blood after all. Her expression changed, however, to worry and then to horror. She yelled out, but her voice was lost in the distance. I turned around to find a charging Hyogamon bearing down the block, rapidly closing the gap between us.

I turned to run, even got two strides in too, but felt something collide and then bounce off the back of my head. Something hard and cold . . .

(Skip)

I awoke on the couch in my living room, its soft blue cushions conforming to my lying form. I sat up, pain arching across my bruised side. _So it wasn't a dream . . . _I silently hissed as my hand went to the swollen area on the back of my head. I heard voices from the kitchen, my parents' and another that I didn't recognize. Getting up was a pain, but I managed to stand and began to hobble toward the kitchen door.

"We can't thank you enough for saving our son, miss?"

"Renamon will do."

_Oh shit . . ._

**Hahaha! Cliffie! I am back . . . somewhat. Now that school has begun I find myself getting home around five and doing homework till seven, leaving me little time to write. Saturdays and Sundays are my time to write. Also, I am having trouble with the plot, if any of you people that are awesome-er writers than me have an idea, don't hesitate to shout it in my ear; or review, that's always good too . . .**

**Renamon: So. You finally decided to put me into the setting.**

**Me: Well, technically, you were already in the setting, you just have made a truly solid appearance now.**

**Renamon: . . . You're plot is very slow . . . **

**Me: . . . *sniffle* Shut up . . .**

**Renamon: *sigh* . . . review . . .**


	5. VERY SHORT UPDATE: My Problem

**Hello! I, in my infinite boredom, have decided to bring this one out of hiatus. You're probably pretty miffed that I haven't updated in well over six months, and I apologize, sorry about that; I was thinking about what was to happen next. I think I actually have a slight plot down. Joy! Seriously though, if you have an idea that would make the story better then please tell me; I beg of you . . . **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the chair I'm sitting on.  
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* * *

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_I hate my life, _I decided then and there as I lay on the floor. Problems just like to flock to me, now there was a very big one in my family's kitchen; specifically one with white and yellow fur! I didn't know why it was a problem, but it was! I mean, that Digimon had saved me back there, but for some reason I felt a connection flowing from the kitchen. That's what made this a problem; If this were a manga, and I the main character, a connection would mean that I would be seeing a lot of this person. What would happen to my perfectly content-ish normal life?

"Rein? Is that you?" Dad called from the kitchen, having heard my topple from the couch. I was about to answer, peering through the door-less kitchen doorway, when a sudden sight made my breath catch. Before me stood a tall, imposing, and not to mention fluffy figure. Ice blue eyes met with mine and I knew that this was going to be a lousy day . . .

I found my breath once more and spoke. "Yeah, Dad. I'm awake," _I wish I weren't, though; I wish this wasn't happening. I wish this were a dream. _The figure of my Mom slid into view behind the humanoid beast, who stepped aside politely.

"How do you feel?" she asked with worry, visibly trying _not_ to go into panic mode. I felt the back of my head and was greeted with a sharp pounding. _Yup, I'm truly awake._

"I'll live." I stated in my average flat tone of voice. Mom regarded me with an unbelieving stare, but sighed in acceptance. I tentatively took a step around the couch, my eyes rooted to the beast-man type digimon before me. I didn't know why but there was a strange tingling in my left front pocket_. _I remembered the Demon Box and felt for its bulge in the cloth covering it, _still there__, 'd be nice if it wasn't though._

My father, having noticed my curious glare at the guest, decided to speak. "Ah, Rein, this is Ranemon, she fought off that blue thing that was chasing you," My stare intensified, if possible. "Well go on, introduce yourself!"

"You first," I replied, knowing that I was irking my parents with the disrespect to our guest. My dad's eyebrow visibly twitched at my statement. Renamon, I grudgingly acknowledged its name, took no offense, bowing slightly.

"My name is Renamon, good enough?" the thick feminine voice of my problem introduced itself. "Now your turn."

_ . . . hmph . . . _"I'm Rein, how do you do?"

"Quite well, quite well," It answered in an even tone.

I didn't know what to say after that. _Hello can you please leave, it will make the tingling in my pocket go away. That doesn't sound excessively rude at all. _I may have a dry, rude, nature, but I don't go out of my way to sound mean; if it doesn't come naturally don't say it, that's my motto for speech.

"Ummm . . . how's life outside the Digital World?" The words just slipped out of my mouth;_ they came naturally I guess._

"So far it's nice, but I've only been out here for a few hours so . . . " the fox answered, shrugging at the end. _Just got here, _I wondered, _Boy that's a first day on earth for ya'._

"Ah, well I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Reality's a great place," I had lost my previous wariness of this creature, but decided to ask it to go all the same, "Maybe we'll meet again someday, ne?"

The yellow Digimon smirked slightly at my farewell, then turned to my parents. They nodded.

"You probably will, seeing as Mr. and Mrs. Kashi have been _so _kind as to offer me lodgings here," It smiled.

"Ah . . ." I opened my mouth and nodded, but inside I was livid at my parents. _You don't let my friends stay over and then all-of-the-sudden you let a digimon, a powerful one at that, that you don't even KNOW stay here! _I had a bad feeling whenever I saw that fox, now I would be seeing it a lot! "What time is it?" I asked, looking at the clock; 7:07 pm it read, well past dinner time.

There were a series of low grumbles that resounded in the living room, three stomachs wanting their offerings.

"Rein, could you help me in the kitchen?" Mom asked. _Hmm . . . I thought I'd noticed an odd smell, but it was just Mom's cooking. My mistake._

_

* * *

_"Sir!" Riley exclaimed. Yamaki looked up, screen-light shining off his shades.

"What is it Riley?"

"The two wild ones that didn't agree to the terms of bio-emerging: one was terminated by the other, and the other just agreed to the terms." she said, looking up the satellite for images. Yamaki sighed; the worry of the day was gone, but he still wondered about somethings.

"Where is the second wild one now?"

"It's at the apartments north of the first wild one's bio-emergence point," Riley stated, clicking a few more keys and pressing 'enter'; the satellite image with the red, green, and blue dots popped back up on the dome screens. There on the screen were four green dots next to a red dot with a green outline, signifying its compliance with the terms of real world emergence; a red flag was poking up above one of the green dots "Yamaki-san, it's with the civilian that we tracked!"

"Hmm, any data pockets in the area?"

"Yes, Sir, the pocket is currently dormant, but the data-stream is incomplete-" Riley was cut off.

"Meaning that we've got a functional Digivice in the hands of a partner-less tamer," Yamaki concluded. Usually a Digivice would appear within the direct vicinity, and sometimes contact, of the partner Digimon. Takato and a few newbies were the exception to that rule; their digivices appeared first, without a designated partner, and then the digimon later, but this was somewhat rare.

He was right, this was somewhat interesting.

* * *

"Mom, could you pass me the chives?" I asked, looking over a frying pan full of vegetables. I was confident enough in my mad-l337-culinary-skillz that I could make vegetables taste remotely good. So far it was working. _Now where are the dang chives! _"Mom? Chives?"

There was a tap on my shoulder and in my peripheral vision I saw the jar of seasoning being held out to me. I should have payed attention to the signs, the tingling in my left pants pocket; when I grabbed the darn chives I realized that it wasn't my Mom holding them out to me. My cold hands brushed against a smooth fabric of Its purple glove when I took the jar; I looked up into the blue eyes of my problem: Renamon.

There was a beep. A click. And then silence . . .

All of the sudden the tingling in my pocket exploded into a pleasant heat that crept up my leg and began to fill my body. I looked and found a huge light radiating past the cloth of my jeans and filling the kitchen. I wanted to scream, to yell "this can't be happening to me", but the warmth stopped me. I looked up to Renamon's face; It was smirking with an undertone of . . . relief? I was glad that there was nobody in the kitchen but me and 'It', because it would have been impossible to explain.

The warmth subsided after a couple of agonizing minutes, occupied by a staring contest with 'It', and I reached into my blue-jeans, fumbling with the 'Demon Box'. Lifting up the accursed device to eye level I noticed that there was a little profile on the screen which read "Name: Rein Kashi, Partner: Renamon, Exp/Data: 0, Effective: 49.18 seconds ago". How would I explain to my parents? No. They simply wouldn't need to know. This, I would keep a secret as long as possible. My greatest shame, the system's last laugh, my normal life shattered, ambitions crushed . . .

I was now officially a tamer . . . _Dang . . ._

_

* * *

_**Really short chapter, I know. In my defense I think I've forgotten almost all of the plot I had planned and wanted to show you people that this story officially _not _dead. Yet.  
**

**In all truth I've lost the feel for this story, since I'm so hung up on my new one, so my next update may take a while. Joy . . .**

**Review. Complements are awesome. Constructive criticism is just as awesome. Death threats are okay, but not taken seriously. Flames I couldn't give a . . . never mind.**

**Ja Ne . . .  
**


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